Demons
by Toejones
Summary: "You never do any of ze dirty work! You slack off and leave us wiz a mess zat you may or may not 'elp me wiz" Christophe growled dangerously. "I never do any of the dirty work you say? You'd be surprised, Christophe dear" a humorless laugh. T for a reason


The sun rose over the grassy hillside, smothering the peaceful scene in a deep red glow. Frost capped the grass making it fragile, even a small animal skittering along could snap it. Snow dusted the trees, laying a sweet wintry scene. It was all so peaceful… except the small details.

Two pairs of eyes scanned the scene warily, taking in the damage. The peace was only surface deep, and unless you were like them, unless you could see the tiniest flaws, you wouldn't even have noticed the small splatter of blood on the tree, drag marks in the grass, or a scrap of shirt in the bushes. But they saw it.

Two boys stood solemnly at the crest of the hill like statues, perfectly still. The short, lean blonde with a melancholy grimace tainting his angelic looks stood with his hands jammed deep into his waistcoat pockets. A sigh carried his breath out into the air visibly, not unlike the smoke being puffed into the air by his companion. Said companion had a cheap cigarette hanging out of the side of his mouth Devil-may-care style. His strong, calloused hands fumbled with his lighter as he reached for another. The blonde's concealed hands trembled.

"You smoke like a train you know" he muttered, pushing a stray lock of hair back into place to give his shaking hands something to do. The brunette grunted, taking a long drag to finish of the tiny cigarette, only to shove the new one in less than a second later. His chapped lips wrapped around the cigarette, his cheeks hollowing as he took a drag. His strong jaw twitched and his hazel eyes squinted as he exhaled, adding to the smoke already circling the space above him.

The taller of the two boys chanced a sidelong glance over to his partner, only to meet the colourless grey-blue eyes that turned a delicate purple in the glowing red light. A blush blossomed on the blonde's face as he was caught staring. Said brunette ran a hand over his face in dismay. "I should be used to zis by now" was all he said. The blonde nodded, bending down to pull out some grass absently. His blush disappeared as he remembered doing the same to something more… human, and shivered violently. "I mean, we do eet all ze time, but…" the brunette trailed off, looking deep into the sunrise. Colors started to spot his vision, but he kept staring ahead.

"I understand" was all the blonde replied with. He managed a feeble smile before shredding the grass in his hands. Looking down at his hands, he noticed the caked, dry blood under his perfectly manicured nails.

"I can not let you out of my sight wizout zinking you 'ave been taken" the brunette persisted. He turned to glare at his partner again "Gregory, zees ess all your fault."

"Do you mean this time specifically, or the whole lot in general, Christophe?" Gregory looked up, letting the destroyed grass fall from his grasp. The wind blew it away in one vicious gust, ruffling their clothes and tangling their hair as well.

"I do not know anymore" Christophe replied dismally "I just know eets your fault…"

"Blame me if you wish" replied Gregory curtly, pursing his lips.

"You are doing eet again"

"What would that be, Chris?"

"You know 'ow to make me feel so damn guilty" Christophe growled angrily, shoving Gregory over in an immature rush of frustration. With a small noise of disgust Gregory pulled himself up into a sitting position, fashioned an irritated glare for Christophe, and stood up abruptly. The grass crunched underfoot as Gregory began to walk away. Christophe rolled his before putting out his cigarette and following him like an unwillingly obedient dog.

He was around five paces behind Gregory as they reached the sidewalk, and him having a slow leisurely pace, had a hard time keeping up with Gregory's long-legged strides. He was just reaching out to grab Gregory's shoulder before Gregory slowed to a halt, turning slowly. "How _is_ this my fault, exactly?'" he looked up slowly, his face twisted into such a ferocious glare Christophe backed away automatically.

"Eeet ees your fault because you never do any of ze dirty work! You slack of and leave us wiz a mess zat you may or may not choose to 'elp me wiz" Christophe advanced on Gregory, his posture aggressive. Gregory's scowl was joined by a deep danger glowing in his eyes.

"I never do any of the dirty work, you say?" he laughed humorlessly, sounding more deadly than he had the last night "You'd be surprised, Christophe, dear"

"Oh really?" Christophe snorted disdainfully, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Oh yes" Gregory hissed, slinking slowly into a less appropriate proximity to Christophe. His glower coiled into an evil sneer "You have your weapons, you're never truly close to your victim" he pulled Christophe's collar, bending him over a few inches to whisper in his ear "Do you know what it's like to rip open someone's ribcage with a knife and clutch their still beating heart in your bare hands? To feel the warmth of life throb, to watch it flutter helplessly at your mercy…?" his last word ended on a husky breath of air puffed into Christophe's ear.

Christophe was silent for a very long time, just mulling over the gruesome image he had received of Gregory ripping someone to shreds, feeling the warm lips almost touching his cold ear. "No…" a shiver ripped through Christophe as he felt Gregory smile.

"I didn't _think_ so" replied Gregory, pulling away. He stood with most of his weight on his right foot, arms crossed, and a vindictive grin spreading across his pale face. They were still in dangerous proximity to each other, their toes almost touching.

"Well Mon Cher…" Christophe grabbed his shoulders and wheeled them into an alley, pressing Gregory into the wall. He heard the unconcealed gasp of pain and felt Gregory's bones creak on his own stomach muscles. "Do you know what eets like to be on ze very edge of deaz? What eet feels like to have your captor stare at you wiz a knife dripping een your own blood, creeping up to you slowly? You can't 'ear anyzing but your own scream as 'e stabs you, ze knife plunging into your stomach, twisting your guts around eet like spaghetti, and all you can zink of ees ze pain..."

"Stop" Gregory muttered quietly, struggling feebly in Christophe's grasp. Christophe chuckled darkly, sending a cloud of smoky-smelling, sultry air into Gregory's face.

"You taste blood, smell blood, see blood, see insides, see black rings and red spots and dancing lights een front of your eyes. And your legs are broken; you're tied to somezing uneven and sharp, ze metal digging into your skin. He zreatens you again. But you have a secret someone told you to keep. 'E breaks all your fingers. You can 'ear zem snapping, eet's not unlike pencils…"

"Chris, stop!" Gregory thrashed, trying to cover his ears. Christophe vindictively enjoyed the increasing heart rate he could feel thumping against his own body.

"To 'ave to struggle to breaze, feeling ze 'ole een your lung open up, like trying to breaze een water? You zrow up blood, ze world ees spinning like a top. You hear a ripping sound an find out zat eets your-"

"STOP!" Gregory shouted loudly, twisting out of Christophe's hold. Christophe staggered back and Gregory promptly slid down the wall. Christophe pounced to grab him and hoisted him up. "Too far" Gregory panted "Too far, Mole…"

"You 'ad eet coming" Christophe responded gruffly, but held him close nevertheless.

"It _is_ my fault isn't it?" Gregory garbled through Christophe's jacket. He clutched the leather in his hands tightly, making wrinkles spread through the fabric.

"I am not going to lie to you." replied Christophe, rubbing his back gently "Eet ees mostly your fault, but I would do a lot of zings for you."

"That's nice I suppose" Gregory smiled a small smile.

"Oui" Christophe nodded absently, staring down at the blonde hair pressed up against his chin. He pushed it back a bit and leaned down, letting his shaggy brown hair fall into the other's closed eyes as their lips brushed. Gregory resisted the urge to whine as Christophe pulled away. But before he could start to walk away Gregory had his collar and pulled him down again.

"We really should never argue, you know" he gasped after coming up for air. Christophe nodded, pinning him in a _slightly_ less violent fashion to the wall. "Ow!" Gregory growled all the same. Ignoring him, Christophe kissed his neck.

"I am still mad at you for giving me zat job. I do not like killing people" he hissed.

"Th…then why are you…" Gregory stuttered weakly, trying to push him away.

"I'm going to show you what it's like to be completely at someone's mercy. Show you what it feels like…"

"I don't see how this is… is all that bad…although you know that I …I like it inside… not… out…outside… Wait a second! Chris, st-stop!" he pushed Christophe's hands away and slid to the side.

"What now? I did not get a choice when I was trap-" he grumbled dejectedly, crossing his arms. Gregory put a hand over his mouth.

"This is _not_ allowed if you are only doing it out of anger"

"I was sent on zat mission last night out of anger, was I not?" he backed Gregory into the wall again.

"It was necessary!" Gregory cried, finally losing it. He punched Christophe in the face, causing Christophe to stumble back off him, hitting the other wall of the alley. "I APPOLOGIZED" Gregory added with an increased volume "And I regret it! You… You know I do!"

"An apology? You zink an apology ees worz zree lives? You are more corrupt zen I zought" he cracked his jaw, wiping some blood off his chin. He lunged at Gregory, trying for a fourth time to get him against the wall. He shoved him into the grungy, faded bricks with such force there was an audible crack. Gregory saw stars explode over his vision. Little spots of color began to circle and black dots grew and shrank like twinkling stars.

"Nnn…Oh God, ow…" Gregory slurred. He would've fallen over if Christophe didn't have him in such a tight grip. "What…nnn" Gregory blinked hard, trying to see Christophe's face.

"You needed to clear your 'ead anyway" Christophe scoffed "I want to know more about why killing zree innocent people was 'essential', Gregory" he stared into the grey eyes. They had begun to go crossed.

"Ummm…It was… it was…They saw you… burying…. the gang leader…guy…that… last week…nnng" his head drooped "you hit me real hard, man…"

"I must 'ave. You just called me Man"

"Oh, yeah. Turn everything into a joke like you always…. Like you always do"

"You zink I'm joking here?" Christophe snarled, tightening his grip on Gregory's arms. "I_ was_ joking earlier about zat mercy zing. I am _not_ joking about zis!" Gregory raised his head slowly, eyes boring deeply into the other boy's, trying to look like he wasn't about to pass out.

"You're a total asshole, Chris. Let go of me right now" he continued glaring, Christophe's face swimming around like he was looking through a lava lamp at him.

"Not until you tell me why" Christophe insisted with a shake of his shaggy hair, letting a slight whiney, desperate tone take over his voice for a split second.

"Why? Because we earn m… we earn money this way" Gregory blinked harshly, thankful Christophe was holding him up.

"You and I boz know zere ees a deeper reason zan zat."

"Fine" Gregory gave him a (slightly drunk-looking) measured stare "There _is_ a deeper reason. You and I both know what it is" he added in a sarcastic tone "It all started with La Resistance. Small things can make the world a better place; a better place for our friends, families…and lovers.

"Every time you kill a man I send you after, you help us come one step closer to taking down the corrupted center of our society. I carefully look over every victim's profile, Chris. I don't do any of the so called 'dirty work' because I'm using my time to find more ways to make the world great. I write persuasive papers to leaders, I make a appointments to better prepare our backup, I get close to the victim so the last thing they expect is an attack, and I infiltrate undercover… I never told you that… bit… I never told you that bit because I didn't want you to… to worry about me… you worry too much, you know… Basically I do everything I can to make your jobs easier to make… make life easier…" Gregory let off in a whisper, staring off into the blending colors he was seeing.

"Gregory…?" Christophe murmured. Despite the slightly rambling, righteous nature of his partner's speech, it had touched the old stone-hearted boy in more ways than he would ever even admit to himself. He had always just blindly trusted Gregory to know what he was getting into (it had ended badly a few times in the beginning, but Christophe had stuck with it). Now, for the first time, he had questioned Gregory's motives. And he felt pretty damn bad about it.

"Yes…?" Gregory replied after a long moment of silence.

"I'm sorry I didn't trust you more…. I guess…" he let go of Gregory's arms. It was less than a second before Gregory crumpled up into a heap on the damp pavement. "Oh fuck…" Christophe ran a hand over his face before lunging down to pick up Gregory.

The familiar feeling of a cashmere blanket and the sharp smells of laundry detergent, smoke, and cinnamon bit into his senses like wildfire before Gregory could even register that he was still alive. He heard a distant groan and the shifting of sheets. There was suddenly something rough on his arm and he sat bolt upright, only to crash back down in a fit of nausea. "Relax, eet ees just me, mon cher" a familiar, deep chuckle followed and Gregory curled up to face to source.

"Asshole" he grumbled irritably, lifting himself up slower. His eyesight cleared back up to perfect and he looked up. Christophe was sitting in bed with his muddy boots on (when would he learn?), a cigarette between his fingers (as usual), and his hazel eyes were questioning and cocky. "For hitting me" he added.

"Ehhhh. Whatever" he smirked and shrugged smoothly, flexing his arms. Gregory smiled back before nudging his legs.

"I usually am enjoying our make-ups a lot more by now" he raised his eyebrows.

"Ees zat so?" he returned the elevated brows with a suggestive smile begging to twist up on his face.

"Yes, it is so" Gregory lifted himself up onto his elbows as Christophe put out his cigarette.

"Alright zen, eef you wish" Christophe leaned down, his chapped lips meeting Gregory's light pink, delicate looking ones with intense force.

"Ow" Gregory grumbled through the kiss. His hands ignored his mind's plea for a more comfortable position and wrapped their way around Christophe's neck. "Come on" Gregory groaned, twisting over onto his back, dragging Christophe with him.

"Impatient, much?" Christophe growled, pressing Gregory into the pillows by his ribs. Gregory tried to glare, but the effect was lost, as Christophe's face was now buried in his neck. All it took was a flip and a blur of green sheets, mud spattered clothes, and two different shades of pale skin to end the fight for at least a little while.


End file.
